#havetopee

As I suspect is common among most people in the world, I awake from each night’s slumber to find that my body did not take the vacation my mind did. As such, I have a to-do list, the most pressing of which is that I HAVE TO GET TO A TOILET, URGENTLY, OR THIS PAIR OF PANTS IS GOING TO BE RUINED! And I’m also usually at least a bit peckish.

This first matter can be difficult to tend to without a toilet to call your own, but that does have a certain way of rendering the addictive snooze button inconsequential. I find myself mildly frantic most of the morning, doing a little dance in my seat that seems out of time with the talk radio usually playing in my car. I know that there’s no shortage of toilets around, but it seems rude to simply walk into an establishment, use their facilities, and walk out without spending a cent.

So I find myself trying to run through my to-do list over the dronings on my bladder: I do need to stop by the grocery store and get more vienna sausage. Moments later I find myself six dollars poorer (but endowed with tasty canned meats, some roma tomatoes, and a jug of cranberry juice), walking out the door of the establishment shouting, “HOW DO YOU NOT HAVE BATHROOMS AVAILABLE TO YOUR GUESTS?! WHAT SORT OF DYSTOPIA IS THIS?!”

And then I realize the option that will always be available to me: the gas station convenience store. Of course I always need gas, and they always have bathrooms but I don’t have time to justify this, I’m about to wet my mobile bed. So I pull up to the store, so frantic with my bodily needs, that I nearly turn off the ignition before realizing I’m not even next to the pump. So I move my car appropriately, turn the car off make sure my purse is in order sprint across the parking lot, give as sincere a welcome to the clerk as possible, scan the building for restrooms (with no helpful sign in sight), check the sign to make sure I don’t embarrass myself by walking into the men’s room, forget to knock (inconsequentially, thank the heavens), lock the door behind me, WHY IS THERE NO PURSE HOOK, FORGET IT I GUESS MY PURSE WILL JUST CONTRACT A VENARIAL DISEASE, AND… no, I am not going to detail using the toilet, relax.